Sometimes my mind slips into a wide brim of conscious that lets me peek at what my true intentions are. Call me high, yet I'm not. I wanna be more than a fabricated dot that clusters into a tidal wave of, trepidation.
Temptation keeps my mind content with day-to-day life, surviving the best I can. I have too much time in the cracks on my hands. Can I be called anything but a sinner? Everyone has expectations, most people don't even know what their morals are. So how can someone call another person for what they are, and say they are a loser? When the same person has done just as worse. Not by actions, but by thoughts. Leave the sinister lies in the dark at the back wall of your mind, and it will corrupt you in time.
I'm wondering what happens after I reach my goals? Do I wipe my slate clean of the achievements I've won? I could set more goals, goals that I could never reach. By the time I'm on my death bed I'll enjoy knowing the fact that I had to reach so far, to attain so little. Material possessions are a commodity, even if it's the last on this planet. We care for money because favoritism and competition keep us alive. It breathes life into hope at a chance for something better.
Yet, I've felt actual love. Now I don't want that again. I've had money, but after I had it I forgot why I needed so much after all I needed to have was food, a roof, and a bed. I don't need more than I can save. I don't save unless I need more.
Fukk this I'm trying to explain what im thinking hopefully someone can interpret this bullshyt.
Temptation keeps my mind content with day-to-day life, surviving the best I can. I have too much time in the cracks on my hands. Can I be called anything but a sinner? Everyone has expectations, most people don't even know what their morals are. So how can someone call another person for what they are, and say they are a loser? When the same person has done just as worse. Not by actions, but by thoughts. Leave the sinister lies in the dark at the back wall of your mind, and it will corrupt you in time.
I'm wondering what happens after I reach my goals? Do I wipe my slate clean of the achievements I've won? I could set more goals, goals that I could never reach. By the time I'm on my death bed I'll enjoy knowing the fact that I had to reach so far, to attain so little. Material possessions are a commodity, even if it's the last on this planet. We care for money because favoritism and competition keep us alive. It breathes life into hope at a chance for something better.
Yet, I've felt actual love. Now I don't want that again. I've had money, but after I had it I forgot why I needed so much after all I needed to have was food, a roof, and a bed. I don't need more than I can save. I don't save unless I need more.
Fukk this I'm trying to explain what im thinking hopefully someone can interpret this bullshyt.
I'll take pseudo-intellectual rants for 500, Alex.
